The Zombie Outbreak

My parents lived in a cozy little house just outside of town. There was a small wilderness of frenzied flowers and herbs lining the path to the arched doorway. Mom loved to garden but she wasn’t very orderly about it. No neat little rows of clary sage and black-seeded poppies for her. Instead, patches of henbane and hellebore grew amongst the jasmine and dittany roots. It made for interesting smells and riotous colors this time of year.

By the time Liam and I arrived, they had just curled up together to watch the Padre game. I could see them through the window as I walked up to the door. Dad had his neverending bowl of popcorn (and I mean that literally. It was a little spell Mom cooked up for him) in his lap while Mom leaned against him and read her book. They looked so content, and I was about to ruin their night.

I must have sighed because Liam squeezed my shoulder reassuringly as he opened the door for me. I took a deep breath and walked inside.

“Dad, we’ve got a zombie outbreak.”

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